


Some Battles You Just Can't Win

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-12
Updated: 2009-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hercules makes an erotic wager with an Amazon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Battles You Just Can't Win

**Author's Note:**

> When Ronon founded _Hercules After Dark_ it rapidly filled with Iolaus fics. I've got nothing against Iolaus, but I wanted Herc to get some PWP action, too. This was my first attempt.

"Oh, come off it, Hercules. Are you telling me you _never_ get tired?" Chiara stared at him sceptically; green eyes met blue with a laughing challenge.

"Sure I do," the demigod answered with an amused grin. "It takes more than a couple of hours travelling though."

"Yeah? How much more?" She tilted her head as she spoke, looking at him through upcast eyes. Chiara let the silence drag on just long enough to be sure he knew she wasn't talking about their journey. She saw the blue eyes tear away from hers and stifled a smile. "Let's see," she went on merrily, "three days ago you were battling an army single-handed and got away with it…"

"Not entirely," he corrected. Hercules had been wounded in that battle, before Chiara and her Amazons showed up…

After the battle, Chiara had left the care of the wounded to her sister's capable hands and gone in search of the demigod who had saved them all. She had found him on the edge of the trees, trying to bandage the wound he had suffered. It was a deep gash across his ribs…one inch lower and just a little deeper and he might not have walked away from that battlefield. Chiara insisted on helping him.

Grateful for the offer, Hercules had submitted to her ministrations. She cleaned out the wound with an astringent liquid and stitched it closed.

"Now I see why you have such an impressive reputation," Chiara said when she was done. "I've never known anyone who can sit through that without making a sound. Do gods not feel pain?"

Unexpectedly, that got her a laugh. "No, they don't, but I'm no god. Believe me, that hurt like Tartarus." He shrugged, dismissing the pain. "I've lived through worse."

Her eyes roamed over his broad, naked chest, seeing the faint scars of older wounds. "I'm sure you have," she answered.

Hercules recognised her direct look as attraction, he'd have to be blind not to. At the time however, believing he would be moving on — alone, and very soon — he'd simply pretended not to notice. Not that Chiara wasn't a very attractive woman, but casual dalliances just weren't his style.

Her voice brought his thoughts back to the present. "…Then the day after that we travelled all the way to Thessaly. On the way, we had to fight those bandits and you stopped to help the villagers clear that rockslide."

"I do remember," Hercules told her. Where was she going with this?

"Yesterday," Chiara's tale continued relentlessly, "we found Castor's camp and rescued my friends. Then we delivered Castor to the authorities."

Hercules nodded acknowledgement. One less warlord selling innocent people into slavery. That, too, had been a hard fought battle: he'd missed having Iolaus at his back, although Chiara fought almost as well as the hunter.

"…And today we've walked almost half the distance back to my tribe's land. How can you not be tired?"

Hercules shrugged. "I slept well." Although that wasn't entirely true…

"Well, I'm exhausted." Chiara slowed the pace of her walk and stretched, illustrating her point. Her slender arms lifted above her head, her back arched, giving her companion a perfect view down her cleavage. Chiara brought her arms down, slid them slowly down the curve of her back, to rest, finally, on her hips. She threw her head back as she moved, her thick tresses of red-gold hair tumbling down her back. Then she muttered a curse: her wrist guard had caught in her skirt and she yanked at it irritably, exposing a milk-white thigh before the wrist guard came loose with a brief tearing sound.

Hercules found his breath catching in his throat. He tried to ignore the sudden, insistent tightening in his groin. Chiara had been flirting with him since the day they met and it was getting harder and harder to control his reactions around her. It would be so easy to reach out right now and caress that firm thigh…he knew she would not object. Her skin would be smooth and warm beneath his hand; he might slide that hand up toward the curve of her hip… Hercules' eyes travelled up from her legs to her flat stomach, exposed to his view by her Amazon garb; the twin mounds of her breasts, not large, but quite perfect, wondering how they would feel in his hands, or taste in his mouth; he followed the sensuous curve of her neck up to her pointed chin, to the full, slightly parted lips; her gorgeous green eyes…which were wide open and watching him with veiled amusement.

"Would you mind if we took a rest for a while?" she asked innocently.

Hercules considered that. Actually, it had been a hard few days (in more ways than one, his treacherous body reminded him). He was used to it — a minor wound wouldn't slow him down — but she wasn't half god, and even with her Amazon training her complaints were justified.

"Sure," he agreed. "Let's double back to that river we crossed. We can camp there a while, if you need to rest." _And I could sure use a cold bath…_

Chiara smiled, the expression sending another dart of fire straight to the demigod's loins. "Sounds good," she said.

***

Hercules gasped in shock as the cold water of the river embraced his body. Cold, very cold. With only a brief hesitation he dived the rest of the way under the water and came back to the surface a few feet away, brushing his now-wet hair away from his face. Droplets of water clung to the demigod's bronzed skin, drawn by gravity over the muscles of his arms and chest in small, shining rivulets. From the safety of the water he looked back at Chiara, waiting on the riverbank.

"I'm going to take a swim," he called to her, shading his eyes against the afternoon sun. "I'll be back soon." She waved in reply and Hercules turned away, swimming upriver, his strong arms cutting through the water with practised ease.

Chiara watched him go, well aware that her breathing was uneven, that the heat she felt had nothing to do with the sun. The first moment she laid eyes on him — fighting the enemies of the Amazons single-handed before she and her sisters reached the field — she had wanted him. Even before she heard his name he had seemed like a god to her: fighting without even a weapon, taking out the warriors right and left with seemingly little effort. In the days they had travelled together — a journey that would be over too soon for her liking — she had come to know him, and had figured out that her desire for him was going to be unsatisfied. She knew he wanted her, had seen it in his impossibly blue eyes a dozen times. But he treated her with perfect courtesy, as an amiable travelling companion, as his equal as a warrior…and nothing more. It was so frustrating.

The sight of him in the river…dripping wet, his perfect, overwhelmingly masculine body glistening in the sun…Chiara wanted so badly to feel those arms around her, to rub her hands through the hair on his chest, to test the son of Zeus' fabled strength in a different kind of battle…_damned_ if she wouldn't give it one last try before he left her.

Hercules swam around the bend in the river, out of sight of Chiara. He turned over on his back and let the current hold him for a few moments. Not for the first time, he asked himself why he was denying his desires. Chiara had made it clear she wanted him, in a hundred different ways: the heated looks, the careful double meanings in her speech, any number of subtle touches…oh gods, and he was thinking about her again, remembering the play of the sunlight on her fiery hair as she waved to him, imagining how it would feel to take her into his arms, plunge his hands into that hair, make those inviting lips yield to his passion, to see those smooth cheeks flushed and those gorgeous green eyes darkened with desire and to know it was he who made her feel that way…

He swam toward the bank, not leaving the water but finding a place where he could sit on the smooth rock riverbed and relax without fear of drowning. Why in Hades didn't he just do it? Go back to her right now — he knew she wasn't as tired as she made out — hold her, kiss her, allow his hands to learn the curves of her body that his eyes already knew so well. Slowly strip the Amazon tunic from her body, caress those strong shoulders, her small but perfect breasts…he was growing hard again at the thought.

Hercules groaned deep in his throat, reluctantly giving in to his immediate need. He slid a hand down to his groin, unable to stop himself imagining it was her hand firmly stroking his penis as he quickly brought himself to completion. It was a release, nothing more, enough to allow him to face her again. He sighed heavily as he waded back into the current and began to swim back.

He should never have offered to accompany her back to Amazon territory. Chiara was a skilled warrior — she didn't need his protection. Once they'd rescued her friends he should have talked her into travelling back with them, not delaying another day with him to deliver that stinking swine Castor to the jail. Yes, that's what he should have done.

***

Chiara had decided to take a bath herself. When Hercules reached the place he had left her, he found Chiara waist deep in the water, her long auburn hair wet and clinging to her skin, just barely covering her breasts. The water clung to the skin of her arms in glistening beads. She saw him as he stood up in the water and smiled her heart-stopping smile in greeting.

Hercules didn't trust his voice to acknowledge her and merely returned her smile, trying very hard not to look at her as he walked past her out of the river. He pulled on his leather trousers and boots over still-wet skin with some relief. No way was he going to watch her bathe…that really would be the end of him. He saw the haphazard pile Chiara had made of her clothes and found the long dagger among her weapons. He picked it up and left their makeshift camp in search of something to eat.

It took a while: Iolaus was the skilled hunter, not him. Iolaus…now he'd have been sleeping with her on the first night. And no doubt enjoying every moment of it. NO, he told himself sternly. He was not going to start thinking of her again.

He returned to their camp with a couple of rabbits, to find that she'd guessed what he was doing and had already built a fire. Chiara had dressed in her skirt and top again, but her boots were still on the heap with her pack and weapons, her bare feet stretched out in front of her as she relaxed. She had tied her hair up with a thong, exposing her long, white neck to Hercules' view. She caught his eye briefly as he sat down near the fire, and she stretched, catlike, consciously showing off her marvellous body. "This was a good idea," she murmured, lying back in the grass with her hands clasped behind her head.

Hercules concentrated on skinning and spitting the pair of rabbits.

Chiara noted the slight flush beneath his tanned skin and smiled to herself. She rolled over onto her stomach, planning her next moves. As he finished with the rabbit she sat up, watching his hands as he spitted them over the fire. Not many men would take on that task so automatically when there was a woman around. He hadn't even thought to ask her to do it.

"Hercules," she said suddenly, "let me look at that wound."

"It's fine," he insisted. "Healing nicely."

"Let me see," she said, more firmly. Chiara was an Amazon princess; she was used to being obeyed. She could see his reluctance but he permitted her "examination". She lightly circled the stitched up wound with her fingertips. "Seems you were right. It's healing nicely." Her hand gently brushed his nipple as she withdrew it.

The apparently accidental touch sent a jolt of desire through him. She was tantalisingly close to him still, looking up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Why do you do…what you do?"

It took a moment for the sense of her question to penetrate. "Why do I…?" There were many reasons. "Mostly because I can, I guess. I don't like to stand by and do nothing while other people are suffering."

"But…" — her hand brushed lightly over his wound again — "you could have been killed."

Despite what she was doing, this seemed a safe topic of conversation. "I don't like slavers. And Castor's worse than most. I've been following him for a while. Actually," — he smiled, gently — "I should thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For helping me put him away."

Chiara smiled, secretly triumphant. "That would mean…" she said slowly, "that you owe me a debt."

Hercules saw the speculative look in her eye and he didn't need to be an oracle to know what was coming next. They'd been dancing around this for days. The decision made, he answered her quickly before he could change his mind again. "You could see it that way." It was said with a knowing grin.

"As an Amazon, it would be wrong of me to let such a debt stand," she told him.

"I can see that," he agreed. "Tell me, what sort of…payment…would you consider appropriate?"

She pretended to consider that. "It's hardly a major debt. After all, you helped me, as well. I'll settle for the answer to a question."

"And what would that be?"

"I was wondering…" — torturously light fingers tracing a line from his throat to his waist, coming to rest just above his belt — "…just what it would really take to tire you out?"

"Do you think you can match me?" he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse with need.

"I think it would be fun to try."

Those hands at his belt now, undoing it with swift, sure fingers. Hercules didn't move at all while she laboured at that task. The belt came free, relieving some of the pressure on his swelling manhood, and he moved her hands away. He reached for the thong that held her hair and untied it. Her glorious mane of hair sprang free, tumbling down her back. He ran a hand through those silken tresses, savouring the feel of them, the softness.

"Kiss me," she whispered. A plea, her voice as husky as his.

Hercules gathered her hair into his hand and pulled on it gently, tilting her head back and exposing her white throat. He kissed her there, just above the place where her pulse throbbed. Another kiss, a little higher, and another. He found her ear, drawing the earlobe into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. He heard her gasp, the sound sending a surge of pure lust straight to his loins. His hand tightened in her hair and he paused, had to stop for a moment or he would have taken her right then. He had denied himself for too long, it was going to be incredibly hard to hold back.

Slowly, he forced his fist to unclench and untangled himself from her hair, hoping he hadn't hurt her. He bent his head to taste her lips. She responded with immediate eagerness, her tongue pushing at his lips, demanding entry. He opened his mouth and her tongue plunged in, thrusting into him with a passion that took his breath away. Her arms wrapped around him and he crushed her against him, his strong arms holding her tightly. After a long time, she drew away from him, breaking the kiss, looking up at him with passion-drugged eyes.

His hands moved to the laces of her top, slowly undoing the first of the ties. Impatiently, Chiara took over the task herself, and in moments the top was gone and her fingers were fumbling at her skirt. Naked, she stood and began to step away from Hercules. He was going to have to get off his butt if she was going to get those trousers off him.

The demigod had other ideas, however. As she tried to move away he grabbed her round the waist and pulled her toward him. He held her firmly, while his mouth found her breast, suckling strongly, then moved lower, covering her abdomen with his tongue's caresses. Chiara cried out when his lips touched her breast, her hunger rising. She moaned with loss as his mouth began to move lower. She was panting with need, her whole body trembling. Without his support she could never have stayed on her feet. She had spread her legs wide for balance, one foot on either side of his body. His caresses moved lower still, his breath hot on the curled hair above her womanhood…then he shifted position slightly, still holding her above him, and his wanton tongue slid inside her folds. A lightning shock of pleasure shot through her as his tongue found that special bud of pleasure. He teased and suckled there, driving her wild with lust until suddenly she was over the edge, screaming her pleasure and her body bucking in his arms.

Slowly, then, Hercules lowered her to the ground, so she sat straddling his lap. He held her gently in his arms, kissing her lips and every part of her face while she gradually found her way back to reality.

"Still think you can match me?" he whispered hoarsely.

She melted into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "I certainly hope so," she sighed against his neck. Then her hand was sliding sensuously down his chest, over the hardening nub of one nipple, over his abdominal muscles and lower, inside the open leather pants. "Were you planning to take these off?" she asked.

Her hand encircled the hot length of his manhood, robbing him of the ability to reply. She began to stroke his length gently. With a groan, he pulled her hand away. "Alright, Chiara, you win." He lifted her off his lap so he could stand, and stripped off his boots and pants. Sighed with some relief as his manhood sprang free from the encumbrance, left his clothes where they fell and started to rejoin her. Then he turned away briefly to push the rabbit away from the fire…he intended for this to take a long time. Returning to Chiara finally he stifled a groan as her hand captured his manhood again.

Chiara was determined to make an impression. Hercules was so much more than she had dared to dream…but she knew a thing or two about how to please a man. Stroking his erect penis with one hand, she reached up and placed the other against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart beneath her fingers before gently applying pressure. She was thrilled when the powerful demigod yielded to her touch, lying back on the grass as she directed. She smiled to herself as she leaned over his body.

She was going to make him beg.

She started with a kiss, tenderly on his lips, then drew back, smiling, letting the promise show in her eyes. She passed her hands over his chest, just above the skin, not quite touching, then gave in to her need to touch and began to stroke and rub his chest. His skin felt like silk covering the steel of his muscles. Her thumbs found his nipples and moved in small circles, massaging and stimulating the sensitive skin.

Hercules sighed in pleasure, wondering what she had in store for him next.

Chiara's mouth replaced her hands, moving across his chest, now kissing, now licking, now suckling at his nipples. She thrilled to the salty taste of his sweat, his long groan as she stimulated him in all the right places. She travelled lower, tracing wide circles with her tongue. She blew on the moisture she left there and felt him shiver. Lower still, kneading at the muscles with her lips and tongue. Kneeling between his parted legs she paused, contemplating the task ahead before she began. His full manhood was beautifully big. She was looking forward to feeling that inside her. But first…

Chiara ran light fingers along the length of his penis, pleased when he caught his breath at her touch. She traced the prominent veins with her fingertips; she ran her thumb oh-so-lightly over the throbbing head; she reached below to cup and tickle the soft testicles beneath his long shaft.

Hercules let out a breathless moan. "Chiara…oh, gods…please…"

She'd wanted to make him plead. She was tempted to make him wait longer, but her own desires were harder to control. Bending her head, her hair falling around like a curtain, she took him into her mouth, running her mobile tongue across the tip, tasting the sweet ambrosia of the liquid seeping from him. Her mouth closed around the head of his manhood for but a moment before she withdrew. She moved her mouth lower, planting kisses all along the length of his shaft, letting her tongue explore the satin skin, applying pressure at the point where the base of his penis met his testicles… At that he groaned aloud again. Chiara worked her way back up the shaft, making certain she hadn't neglected any part of that proud organ. She enclosed the head in her mouth once more, sliding her lips up and down, teasing the weeping slit with her tongue, creating a gentle suction, listening with delight as his stifled groans told her he was close to orgasm.

At almost the last possible moment she drew away from him, leaving him gasping, not quite at the peak. Hercules reached down and drew her face toward his, kissing her with such a desperate passion she almost came from that alone. He turned her onto her back as they kissed, and she opened her legs to him eagerly, longing to feel him inside. He knelt between her legs and held himself above her, then paused, fighting for some measure of control. He found it, and entered her slowly, revelling in the heat of her welcome. Oh, she was more than ready for this. Penetrating her slowly until he was sheathed in her to the hilt, cursing his stupidity for resisting this so long…then all coherent thought was gone.

His penetration was so deep, so complete that it sent her over the edge once more. Chiara was flying…out of her body, out of the world. Surely only the gods could bring such ecstasy. From far away she heard her own voice moaning, calling his name, begging him over and over again…for what she didn't know. Her body shuddered with release as the orgasm shook her, and behind it there was another, and another…and still he was pounding into her, deeper each time…it was almost too intense…

…and with a final deep groan his body stiffened above her and his seed spilled hotly into her body.

He withdrew from her slowly and she cried out with the loss. Turning onto his side he gathered her into his strong arms and held her safe against him. One of his hands stroked her hair gently as he whispered her name, over and over, calling her back to earth.

When he saw her open her eyes and smile up at him, he began to caress her again, the length of one slim arm, her shoulders, her back. She sighed and rolled over onto her stomach. He drew away slightly to fill his sight with her…the slender curve of her spine, the pert buttocks, the milky-white thighs. He began to rub her back and she stretched like a cat, closing her eyes in anticipation. He kneaded at the muscles of her neck and shoulders…she was already relaxed, Hercules' skilful hands massaged away what little tension remained. He moved his hands outwards from her shoulders to her upper arms, feeling the muscles there; Chiara was a strong woman. Next to her upper back, shoulder blades and spine. He heard her sigh softly under his attentions and smiled. Hands moving lower, to the hollow of her back, lower still to massage her buttocks. He took longer over that part, his hands strong and sure of themselves as he kneaded her willing flesh.

He gently parted her thighs, then drew his hands down the length of her legs, from her buttocks to the soles of her feet. He turned his attentions to her calves, strong finger digging into the muscle of one leg and then the other. He leaned over her to take a look at her face…her eyes were closed, her lips moist and slightly parted…oh, yes, she was relaxed now. Time to turn up the heat…

He lifted one of her legs, bending it at the knee; she allowed him to move her without resistance. He used both hands to massage that leg from knee to ankle, long gentle strokes, then ran his hand across her foot. Making slow circling movements with his thumb he applied pressure to the ball of her foot. Bending his head, he lightly kissed her instep. Chiara gasped at the new sensation and her eyes flew open. Hercules smiled, continuing the caress with his hands until she relaxed once more…

The regular, firm stroking of his fingers was replaced again by his kiss…the rough texture of his unshaven chin on the extremely sensitive skin of her foot sent shivers through her. That sensation was followed by the caress of his lips and tongue; Chiara found herself moaning with pure delight as his knowing mouth enclosed her small toes. She felt him draw his tongue across her flesh and shivered. No one had ever made her feel this way…no lover she'd ever known had gone to the trouble. She felt as if he knew her completely, knew how she would respond better than she could know. The feeling of his mouth on her toes, his tongue caressing the length of her instep…somehow it was all unspeakably erotic.

His hands were moving again, up her legs, kneading gently, stroking her parted thighs. His fingers slid between her buttocks and suddenly, unexpectedly moved within the folds of her womanhood, teasing her opening and slipping inside.

Her vagina was still wet with Hercules' semen. Knowing that much of the moisture he felt came from him excited him. Chiara's breathing was becoming ragged again as he teased her folds; when he felt the renewed surge of hot juices he withdrew his hand and gently turned her over onto her back. She sat up at once, reached for him, her lips meeting his in an electrifying kiss. She pushed her body against his, her breasts crushed against his chest. He reached for one of those eager breasts, pinching and teasing the nipple to full hardness, then offered equal attention to the other as his kisses moved away from her mouth, down her neck to the hollow of her throat.

Chiara's head was thrown back as she gasped and moaned her pleasure. She felt helpless to do anything else, unable to pleasure him as she wanted because her own responses were too intense. He took one tightly beaded nipple into his mouth and she found a new plateau of feeling. She reached for his head with both hands, her fingers tangling in his long hair, holding his mouth where she wanted - needed - to feel it. He was supporting her body with one hand. The other slipped down between her legs again, his fingers moving within her, no teasing touch now, his fingers thrusting insistently, setting up a rhythm…

"…Oh, gods…Hercules…oh…"

She was close. Hercules slipped both hands around her hips and pulled her into his lap, impaling her on his ready, eager member. He held her there for a moment, then his hands slid up her back and he surrendered control to her. His hard desire buried deep in her body she began to move… He recaptured her mouth with his. Without warning she wrenched her lips away and buried her face in his neck. The rhythm of her movements upon him speeded up, he felt his own orgasm building along with hers…then her teeth sank into his skin as the wave of glorious release washed over her.

He had been close, but the sudden pain pulled him back from the edge. He cradled her against him as she relaxed in his arms, then, his hardness still within her, he rolled them both over so she lay beneath him once more. He began to thrust inside her, slowly, completely in control for the moment. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her temples and cheeks, the gentle movements of his tongue mimicking the slow thrusting of his penis. His kissed travelled down to her breasts and the pace of his thrusting increased. She grasped his buttocks with both hands, her fingernails digging into his skin, pulling him closer to her…and suddenly she was reaching a peak again, screaming his name as she came.

Hercules was only moments behind her and this time nothing interfered. With a deep groan of release he spilled his seed into her.

Through the sound of his own panting breaths, he heard her say, "I guess…you weren't kidding…you don't…get tired…do you?"

***

Chiara had fallen asleep in Hercules' arms. He lay there with her for some time, gently stroking her hair, watching the gentle rhythm of her breathing. Eventually, he rolled her sleeping body away from his, careful not to wake her, and stood up slowly. He threw some more wood on their dying fire and checked the slowly roasting rabbits. He glanced up, checking the position of the sun in the sky, genuinely surprised by how much time had passed. It seemed unlikely they would be travelling any further before morning.

A quick dip in the nearby river was refreshing, and he washed the worst of the sweat from his body. Sitting around naked made him feel too vulnerable, so he pulled on his leather trousers once his skin was dry, but left shirt and boots where they were…for the moment.

As Chiara stirred and began to wake Hercules knelt beside her and bent his head to gently kiss her lips. She lifted a hand to his face, a gesture of tenderness that surprised him, before allowing him to draw away.

"Hungry?" he asked her.

She gave him an arch look.

"For rabbit, I mean," he added.

"Oh?" Chiara smiled, pretending disbelief. "Well, yes, it's been a while since I ate."

He handed her a share of the meat and sat there silently while she ate…gods, even watching that renewed his desire: her mobile lips moving as she chewed, her pink tongue emerging occasionally to lick her lips…he noticed the speculative look in her green eyes as she watched him watching her. Hercules returned her gaze frankly; it wasn't as if his desire had ever been a secret from her.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked. That was a first: Chiara usually dived straight in and said what she wanted to.

Hercules remembered their earlier conversation and grinned. "I believe we agreed on just one question."

She shrugged. "Well, strictly speaking, you never answered it. I think I'm entitled to another." She was laughing.

He pretended innocence. "It's not my fault you fell asleep."

A wicked grin. "It was, you know."

He joined her laughter, but when their merriment died away the question was still there. More seriously now, Hercules said, "Ask me."

At once, she did. "Hercules, why didn't this happen three days ago?"

Not the question he'd been expecting. It made him uncomfortable: how many times had he asked himself that? A deep breath, and he said, "Must you make me say things that might hurt you?"

"It won't. Not if it's the truth." Her green eyes met his, but he didn't answer. She repeated the question: "Why didn't we do this days ago?"

She was going to drag an answer from him no matter what he did. Reluctantly, Hercules told her, "Because what I was…" — with a wry grin, he corrected that — "…what I _am_ feeling: it's pure lust. I don't like to give in to that. I don't enjoy feeling that out of control." He took another breath, avoiding her gaze. He'd said this much, might as well add the rest. "And because I felt like I'd be using you. We both know that as soon as we get back to your tribe, I turn around and walk away. Even if we wanted more, it's not possible."

Chiara's expression was unreadable. Then she smiled. "So you're going to walk away feeling guilty? Don't. I haven't exactly put my mark on you, either."

He knew what she was referring to — an old Amazon tradition — but this was a chance to change the subject, and Hercules took it. "That's not true," he told her with a grin. He lifted his hair and showed her the mark of her teeth on his neck. Hercules didn't need a mirror to know she'd drawn blood. He had been wondering how he was going to explain that to Iolaus. The irrepressible hunter was _not_ going to believe it happened in battle…

Chiara giggled suddenly. "Oh, Hercules, that's just a little gesture of affection."

"I'd hate to see what happens to your enemies, then," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

She crossed the small distance between them on her knees and reached out to touch the livid mark on his skin. She leaned in and kissed it gently, then rested her head on his shoulder. "Should we stay here tonight?" she asked quietly.

Hercules glanced up at the sky. There seemed little point in moving on, it would be getting dark soon. "Yeah," he agreed.

Chiara rose to pull their blankets out of the pack. She didn't even glance at her clothes as she spread the blankets on the ground. Together. Then she sat down and looked up at Hercules, directing a pointed glance at his leather trousers. "Well, you won't be needing those."

Hercules nearly laughed aloud, realising his first impulse was still to resist the temptation…as if there was any point. "I guess you're right," he admitted, his hands going to his heavy belt. But tomorrow he would take her home.

As he lay down beside Chiara, he was thinking, _Maybe I am glad Iolaus didn't come along this time…_


End file.
